


I Hope It's All You Dreamed It Would Be

by A_Diamond



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bondage, Cock & Ball Torture, Demon Dean, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Non-con Handjob, Non-con Wing Kink, Sexual Torture, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 09:52:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13211262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Diamond/pseuds/A_Diamond
Summary: Castiel couldn’t help the way his throat caught at a moan as Dean’s fingers sunk into his wings, deep between the feathers in a massage as intimate as anything he’d ever experienced.





	I Hope It's All You Dreamed It Would Be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dogsled](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dogsled/gifts).



Castiel couldn’t help the way his throat caught at a moan as Dean’s fingers sunk into his wings, deep between the feathers in a massage as intimate as anything he’d ever experienced. The sensation of Dean rubbing his palms across the delicate shafts, raking his nails over the sensitive skin beneath. Physical pleasure rushed through him at the touch, shock after shock shivering along his nerves, building a spark of heat deep inside him.

It was like nothing he’d ever felt before. The intensity of it, the deeply personal nature—his _wings_. No one had ever touched his wings. Every point of contact, every movement that brushed through his feathers threatened to overwhelm him, lust and heat burning in his viscera.

It was too much. From deep within his scrambled thoughts, he managed to find words. “Please,” he gasped. The word felt too hard to form, he couldn’t manage any more.

Dean leaned in over Castiel’s shoulder, pushing his chest against Castiel’s wings, and made him. “Please what, angel?” His breath was hot in Castiel’s ear.

Talking was even harder with Dean so tortuously close, his body heat smothering Castiel’s back. “Please—don’t. Stop.”

Fingers tangled in his feathers, rough but still intensely sexual, spawning a wave of arousal that made his already hard cock jerk and drip with need. Dean laughed, a cold and cruel sound right next to Castiel’s face.

“No.”

Backing up his refusal, Dean redoubled his efforts. His hands found Castiel’s preen glands at the base of his wings and squeezed. Oil flowed out along with another long moan, and Dean worked it through Castiel’s feathers in a mockery of loving care.

Once, he would’ve given anything to have Dean touch him; that only made it that much worse to have it happen the way it did. To be chained and helpless, unwilling, his vessel and grace bound by a demon whose very existence defiled the soul of the man Castiel loved. The man, the soul, he thought he’d saved from just such a fate.

While one hand kept up the agonizingly pleasurable attention to his wings, Dean’s other hand slid down Castiel’s body and around to the front. It left a trail of his own wing oil across his chest and stomach, but Dean’s fingers were still slick when they wrapped around Castiel’s cock.

Castiel cried out and arched into it; the ropes holding him at Dean’s mercy pulled tight with his movement, and even though he didn’t need to breathe, an anointment of holy oil made the strands tied around his neck in a collar burn and choke him. Despite the pain, despite the humiliation and anger and fear, all it took was Dean twisting both wrists simultaneously—one hand buried deep in Castiel’s feathers, the other sliding around his cock.

Just like that, Castiel came; tears in his eyes, Dean’s name on his lips.

His wings and grace tried to flare as climax hit him, exploding with the blinding intensity of it, but neither of them had anywhere to go. Thus confined, the white-hot energy shook through him like a second orgasm. Perhaps it was even a second orgasm, with the way his cock twitched through a prolonged spasm in Dean’s grasp.

Release brought with it oblivion, silence in his troubled mind that was welcome but far too short-lived. Dean’s voice forced him mercilessly back to himself.

“Gosh, Cas. For a guy who said he didn’t want it, you sure are a fucking slut for me. What does that say about you, do you think?”

Castiel refused to rise to the bait. Of course he felt shame at his body’s reaction, but Dean had already seen that weakness in him. Admitting to it served no purpose except to further his humiliation. But Dean still had a grip on his genitals, and apparently Castiel’s silence didn’t please the demon. His nails dug into tender flesh made all the more sensitive in the wake of Castiel’s still fresh orgasm.

“I asked you a question,” Dean snarled once Castiel had stopped screaming.

Torture of that sort Castiel could withstand, even if it hurt more for the simple fact of Dean’s involvement, so he set his jaw and stared unseeing ahead of him. Dean again twisted his cock in a vice grip, but Castiel managed to contain his reaction to a pained grunt that tapered off only a few seconds after the pressure from Dean’s hand did.

“I see how it is.”

Dean let Castiel go entirely as he chuckled, and try as he might, Castiel couldn’t stop the flutter of his wings as Dean’s vanishing fingers brushed through them one last time. He came around to Castiel’s front, black-green eyes shining with unholy glee.

“I could break you like that,” he said idly, casually, like he was discussing the weather. “You’re stubborn as fuck, it’d take a while, but I’m Hell’s best. I could hurt you until you stopped being so stubborn. And oh, that would be fun. Fuck, Cas, I’m hard just thinking about it.”

And he was; he reached down to demonstrate, fondling his visible erection through his jeans. His hand still glistened obscenely with Castiel’s preening oil.

“But it’s gonna be even better to do it like this.” Dean’s other hand reached out to caress Castiel’s cheek, stroking softly down his jaw and over his lip. “Because this is just gonna wreck you, isn’t it? All the things you ever wanted from me when I was human—and straight, by the way, and never going to give them to you.

“But luckily for you, demon me is a lot less picky about that. I mean, I’m never gonna love you. You know that. But I’ll make you feel like I do. It’s gonna feel so good, Cas, and that’ll destroy you more thoroughly than anything else I could do. How sad is that?”

Castiel couldn’t look at his falsely earnest face any longer; he let his eyes close and gave in to a shudder at Dean’s gentle touch. Dean was right; it would destroy him.

**Author's Note:**

> _innocent whistling_


End file.
